


Holding Out an Olive Branch

by ZephyrOfAllTrades



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Michael's a wanker, Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens), So is Gabriel, but great emotional support, not much relationship fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 09:28:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21251174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZephyrOfAllTrades/pseuds/ZephyrOfAllTrades
Summary: Aziraphale didn't want to kill kids. He did his best too.





	Holding Out an Olive Branch

**Author's Note:**

> This felt heavy. Hope I did enough to swipe that away. Not beta'd. Sorry for mistakes I didn't catch. Comment if you do, I'll appreciate any.

Contrary to popular belief, Noah did not employ a dove to find out whether it was safe for them to leave the ark.

It was Aziraphale whose bright white wings took off to search the vast expanse of water that was left over from the great storm She brought down on the humans. And it was a certain demon with midnight wings who took off a little later to follow him.

“Happy now?” Crawly asked, unable to hide his anger.

“I beg your pardon?” Aziraphale sputtered.

“The humans got the message I’m sure, a lot of good to them now that they’re dead.” The last word came out with venom.

Aziraphale couldn’t reply. But the pain in his face was obvious.

He heard them too, Crawley thought. He heard the screams. Just like him, even tucked into one of the ark’s corners weeping to himself as he imagined the humans, more specifically, the children trying to hold on to anything they could to try and survive.

But Aziraphale had it worse. He did not hide. He was out during the storm. Scanning the horizon. Wind whipped at his clothes. Rain soaking him to the bones. Yet he stayed where no mortal could have done, and endured. For he did not only hear their screams, but also their prayers. Desperate at first then resigned. His tears mingled with the rain.

The ones who were able to flee had ran to the nearby hills. Eyesight greater than any mortal, he saw its trees – olives, as was the most common in that time – riddled with humans. Climbing its knotted trunks.

He saw how first the men helped the women and children. Urging them to climb higher. They knew it was too late for them. He could hear their prayers.

_“Lord have mercy on us. Our sins deserve Your punishment. But please, please spare our wives and our children. They need not suffer.”_

And the water swept the lower branches away. Aziraphale wept. She must have heard them. It will be alright then. She will show them mercy, he told himself.

But the storm remained and the waters rose. And the women fatigued, were clinging on to their children, until the waters reached their waists. They urged the children to climb further up the trees. He could hear their whispered reassurances. “Careful, dear heart. That’s it to the top. Hold on tight. It shall be over soon.

_“The cold does not bother me. Go along, my child. Farther up yes.”_

_“The wind is strong. But I know you are stronger. Be strong for mother.”_

_“One last kiss and you promise to climb higher, yes? Darling I won’t leave. I’ll be right here. I’ll be near. Just go a little farther up.”_

_“You promised, didn’t you? You promised to be good. Now climb, I say and stop all that crying.” A kiss gentler than her words turned her demands to pleas._

The women knew their fate. But prayed that their children will be saved.

_“Lord take our children to safety. Have mercy on them, if not for us. We failed to follow You. We know now that we are not worthy of salvation. This we shall take. This we understand. But dear God, spare our children. Give them a better life than this. They will now know Your grace and hold it closer than we ever did.”_

And the swirling waters threatened the only anchors they had left. The swaying branches dislodged the women and their screams as well as their children filled the air.

Aziraphale watched in agony. Fists balled so tight his fingers drew blood. The children are left alone. Defenseless but safe for the time being.

They did not pray; they hadn’t known how. But they cried, tasting grief but never knowing that that was what it was. The wind howled and more trees were uprooted. Aziraphale gasped and grabbed the ark’s railing. He saw the tiny arms almost indistinguishable from the branches slowly sink into the dark waters. Realization came to him then. His heart sank. She will take the children. They were to die too. But he can’t watch anymore, nor can he flee from his perch.

He felt wretched.

“You can’t kill kids.” The voice repeated in his head. And it spoke the truth. For him at least. He knows that the others can. But he definitely can’t. Just like he couldn’t let Adam and Eve leave without any kind of protection.

The first flash of lighting ripped the sky. Aziraphale held his breath. The thunder came after, harsh even to his ears as the noise mingled with confused and terrified screams. He knelt and prayed for them.

_Lord, they know not their sins. But they will, if You let them. All they need is guidance. They have felt Your love even if they hadn’t known it was Yours. Please show them Your immeasurable mercy so that they will understand. _

He heard another tree splash into the water and before he knew what he was doing, Aziraphale had jumped to his feet and cast his arms towards the tree, summoning it to float against the trashing waves. The children were still clinging on. It may not look it, but he was expending his miraculous powers to the limit in keeping the tree calm against the whorls in the water. He willed the tree to float towards the others in the hopes that the other children would be able to cling on. They did, each small hand grabbing on to branches and their fellows.

The rain lashed at them, at him. But he wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t save them all, he knew. But at least these, the ones he could, he’ll have. A great wave overtook the remaining tree tops and those aboard them. He whimpered for those lost and from the exhaustion but still willed the tree to stay afloat. He then slowly pulled it towards the ark. He was at the brink of falling over the railing achingly trying to catch hold of the makeshift raft full of children towards him which was unfortunately still halfway towards its destination. He flung another burst of power towards it, this time to ease the fears of its passengers.

The sky growled and spat white fire but Aziraphale would not be deterred. He will save them. He must. The tree floated onwards. He could see their faces now. Eager. Their voices calling towards the ark.

Then it happened. A second was all it took. A glaringly bright second when a large bolt of lightning shot straight towards the tree.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. He heard screaming, louder than the storm. It took him a few seconds to realize it was his.

He took hold of the railing, devastated. He kept his eyes fixed on the spot where last the tree had been. He could feel the storm ebbing but the rains still poured. With a final wail and the splintering of wood under his hands, Aziraphale had let himself crumple to the deck, shoulders heavy, head in his hands. He cared little for the rain or the cold or the darkness that now enveloped him. He remained there ‘til the storm had fully abated. He had heard more screams during the last few hours, but remained coiled in an agony only he feels.

Crawley found him in the same position when he came out of the ark weeks after. Aziraphale had kept his vigil and would remain so until the punishment – theirs and, as he believed, his – was done. The rain was still insistent, but it was promised to stay that way for the next few months. Crowley kept his distance. He looked like he was praying. Praying to a God who punishes even the innocent. He growled then went back towards the snake hold and waited for the end of the blasted flood.

The lightning was like a slap to Aziraphale’s face. The plan was to drown everyone. And the plan was followed. He didn’t know if it was God herself or someone else from heaven that shot the tree. All he knows is that it was gone. They were gone. He was a failure.

\------

When the sky had cleared Aziraphale stood but where he usually kept his posture, he now cannot even stretch his back to ease his screaming muscles. Somewhere from behind him he heard wings flapping. He looked at the receding pair of black wings.

Crawley flew off to look for survivors. Aziraphale knew there were none. Worse was seeing the same black wings leave early in the morning with a hopeful twitch and come back every evening slumped in sorrow for the next few days.

Aziraphale was loathed to step away from his spot for the last few months but he knew he had a job to do. Even if all others had died, the family within the wooden vessel were not. They needed to leave the ark to repopulate the earth. And he needed to leave the vessel to come to terms with his tumultuous thoughts.

He took out his wings and went to find land. The first few days were fruitless. He recounted his deeds to Noah to settle their fears. He had flown both North and South and was just about to face West when he saw Crawly rise to scour the sea in that specific direction. Not wanting to add to the awkwardness of their first flight after the storm, he resigned to fly towards the rising sun.

He was just about to take off when he felt the prickle of concentrated angelic power somewhere behind him. Glancing back, he saw Gabriel and Michael walking towards him.

“Good morning, Aziraphale,” boomed Gabriel. “You’re looking…. taught,” he frowned.

“Ah, uhm, no… just – my wings,” Aziraphale struggled to form his words, “been a while since I’ve used them.” He cracked a passable smile, it was not a particularly good time to exchange niceties with his boss, especially as he’s still sorting through his muddled mind.

“Right, it’s a good thing you’re up and about doing what you should be doing,” both Gabriel and Michael exchanged looks.

The latter cleared her throat and addressed Aziraphale with “It has come to our attention that you had very nearly forgotten them.” Her voice was sharp and almost mocking.

“Well, it was rather your first big assignment after the Garden,” Gabriel pointed out to both of them, “A little oversight with that floating tree bit. I might have forgotten to specify which children should enter the ark. Wasn’t your fault. I remedied it quickly with one strike, though. Lightning can be a bit tricky. So, all is, ah, good.” He got orders to remind Aziraphale of his duties, not chastise him. Both he and Michael were confused with that, but they could not disobey.

Aziraphale almost snarled but checked himself before things got out of hand. So, it was Gabriel after all.

“Besides, I got to practice my aim!” The proud tones of his superior grated on his nerves. He managed a slight nod and looked at his sandals to avoid pointing his murderous gaze at the archangel.

“And seeing how serious you are now, I’m pretty sure you’re back to your senses.” Gabriel said with a hand slapping Aziraphale’s shoulder. He did his best not to wince.

“Best we go back and file our reports. We’ll wait for your paperwork after the family here get settled back on land,” he waves as he turns his back and walk the short distance towards Michael.

Aziraphale still kept his head down, not trusting his face to look civil enough.

“Hold on,” Michael’s suspicious voice made his head snap up. “What’s with all these black feathers?”

Aziraphale’s blood froze. The port side of the ark had Crawly’s feathers strewn here and there, the result of his endless comings and goings. He knew he was not allowed to keep acquaintances with demons. And he knew what _they _would do if they find Crawly.

He must think of something, so he said, “Oh! Those are Cr-, crow’s feathers,” he almost slipped up from nervousness, “Noah had called for a raven you see, and someone brought back a crow instead. It took them a while to catch it and put it back below, then there was the incident with the actual raven and well…” he needs to get better at this. “Lots of flapping of arms and, well, wings,” he added meekly. He should stop babbling.

“And yet I sense an evil presence,“ Michael arched her eyebrows.

“The raven had been eating carrion.” He replied readily. This at least was the truth, and its ring was unmistakable. He had seen them with his own eyes. He knew they were only animals following instinct but he was disgusted nonetheless.

Michael finally relented. “I never could tell the difference between ravens and crows, either,” Michael shared with Gabriel who nodded in agreement. A second later they were gone without even a goodbye.

Aziraphale sighed. Good thing Crawly was well off somewhere else. He unfurled his wings and took flight. He drifted towards no real direction. But had found himself above a dry clearing, or more pointedly, a hill the flood waters have now relinquished. It was carpeted with gently swaying blades of grass and in the middle was an olive tree. A rather sturdy looking one. Strong enough to take his weight as he landed in one of the larger branches. It’s foliage proudly catching the endlessly bright morning rays. It was a horrible contrast to the debris lower down below the hill lapped up by the slowly ebbing waters. He knew it could not have survived the flood. The clearing itself felt miraculous. This was probably the sign he needed to relay to Noah. Thankfully so, he needed a good holiday. He could feel his own internal storm thinking about seeing Gabriel’s face again. He snapped a twig and set his sights back to the Ark to tell the family waiting there that they will soon be able to disembark.

That night he finally entered the Ark and told himself he might as well explore it. He had done his job and was planning to leave the next day, so it was the only opportunity he had left. Entering one of the many rooms that held all the worlds animals, he chanced upon Crawly. He had tried to hide the few stowaways he had but Aziraphale had already knew, knew that he would try to save them. His guilt came back tenfold, knowing that there could have been more now, but he was too slow to act.

He expected a hiss from Crawly as what he had done that first morning they flew out to look for land. But instead he regarded him with a curious stare. The few children he managed to save were asleep and he kept a protective wing over them.

“Oh, uh, sorry to bother you,” he managed to whisper. Crawly’s stare was disconcerting and the screams he could hear in his head was not helping. “I-I’ll totter off then,” he turned to leave, face feeling warmer.

“Wait.” Crawly called out. They both flinched at how loud it was, but the children barely stirred. He lowered his voice and continued. “Yeah, uh. There’s plenty of room,” he gestured towards an unoccupied space beside him, still giving Aziraphale that searching look. He had questions, he could see them behind those yellow eyes, ready to ask.

Aziraphale couldn’t say no. That would have been rude. So he took the offered seat and hugged his knees. Posture be damned. The dark was bringing back memories he didn’t like. But the grief was more tolerable.

“Saw you got a visit this morning,” Crawly started off, but his voice was light and sound genuinely curious. “Forgot to set aside breakfast for the kids so ran back quickish. Just managed to land on the roof before your friends turned their heads.”

“You saw them? Right, yes, well,” he wondered how much he had seen and _heard_ “I-it was Gabriel and Michael, they’re not _friends_,” his voice managed to harden at the word but then returned to a somewhat more neutral tone. “They were reminding me of my reports due now that the uhm…” he can’t say the word _flood_, it weighed too heavily on his tongue “ah, ark has served its uhm, purpose.” He inhaled deeply. The memories are still too fresh, they were choking him.

“You didn’t tell them I was here.” It wasn’t a question. And it sounded soft with a twang of disbelief, but barely recognizable. Crawly found it odd, but nice knowing that the angel wouldn’t tattle. This was only their third time. Then again, even in the last two meetings, the angel had been different. He knew his anger for all this chaos cannot apply to the being he was talking to now. It seemed like an injustice somehow.

“I couldn’t,” came the reply, equally soft. The night was too dark for Crawly to see his face clearly but he could picture it in his head. A somber look that tugged at his heart, as if a demon was worth saving. _How stupid can this angel get?_ He shook his head at the thought.

_You can’t kill kids._ That phrase alone was enough to open Aziraphale’s eyes. Crawly didn’t deserve punishment, he could only be praised. The toddlers around him was testament enough. He sat up straighter and tried a more uplifting tone to banish the heavy atmosphere. Aziraphale thought he might break down again but he won’t, not in front of Crawly, he’ll save him from any mention of the tragedies that was. He needed to save himself as well.

“Besides,” he started, “I believe you were well-behaved during this time. Surely it would not warrant the wrath of archangels. But you do need to keep your feathers in check, my dear.” This time he managed a smile.

“Oh, you _believe_ so? I warrant that’s all you could do, seeing as you didn’t even come near the doors let alone look for me.” Crawly was teasing but the effect was rather lost when he felt rather than see Aziraphale go rigid.

“I’m leaving tomorrow, so I thought I’d see the inside before I do.” He said a little mechanically. “In fact, I should probably get a move on. So much to see!” He said with apparent false cheer, then jumped up and went, before Crawly could stop him.

The next morning had dawned brighter than the past few months. Aziraphale was ready to go. Was too anxious to go. He wanted to say goodbye to Crawly but thought of how awkwardly he’d acted the night before. To save him the trouble, Crawly had slithered up to the deck, after making sure Aziraphale had no ‘visitors’ this time.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” he said, startling the angel.

“Oh, uh, thought you might still be busy.”

“Nah, the kids are still snuggled up down below. They don’t usually wake up this early.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale couldn’t really say more. He doesn’t know how else to ease his awkwardness. Then he remembered a rather disturbing thought. “Ah, Crawly, may I ask w-well, the children. Where would they go after they come back to land?”

“Oh, uh, thought maybe I could bring them along, I guess.” Crawly said after some thought. “Couldn’t well leave them here, I don’t know how the people in there would take to freeloaders. I’d say a little island somewhere so they could stretch their legs properly would be nice.” He turned to smile at the angel, but frowned after looking at his furrowed brow.

“Wha’ssss wrong?” He said feeling a little nervous himself.

“I think it’d be best to leave them with Noah’s lot,” the angel said with resolve in his voice. “I won’t let Gabriel find himself more practice targets,” this he mumbled to himself before he turns to enter the ark. “I’ll take care of it,” he called before disappearing into the hold.

_Target practice?_ What was the angel talking about? Crawley stumbled to keep up, confused at the sudden earnestness of the angel as they walked towards the living quarters.

He looked on in silence as Aziraphale pushed a thought into the minds and hearts of each of the residents of the ark – of taking care of the children they would find hiding below who will now be part of their family. He looked over at Crawly asking the specifics while Noah’s family still had their glazed looks.

“That should do it,” Aziraphale said after a snap of his fingers. “Best to tell the children to not hide anymore,” he said with a smile towards the silent demon at the corner of the room.

With a snap of his own fingers, he said “Done.”

They went back towards the deck.

“You know you didn’t need to do that, I’m sure the children would have been fine on themselves. I mean, I kept them alive all this time, what a few more years?”

“I know, dear. I trust you wouldn’t abandon them after this…”

_You trust me?_ Crawly screamed internally, ogling Aziraphale the same way he did after he learned the angel gave away his flaming sword that day at Eden’s wall.

“…but I am most certain this would be the safest course for them, and probably you.”

“Y-yeah,” closing and opening his mouth not like a fish out of water. “Uhm, guess someone might see me and decide a demon can’t be a nanny,” he was babbling now, though he was sure he could be a good one.

“Hum…” was all Aziraphale could say.

The tension was palpable but the thing that broke the silence was Aziraphale’s feathers materializing and catching the wind. A few minutes later the angel spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he twitched, “but I’m afraid I must go.”

“Oh, alright then,” Crawly knew something was wrong. He won’t push him, but he didn’t become a demon for letting people keep their secrets.

He let the angel soar then followed a good distance away and kept close to the murky waters to blend in just in case. He knows he’d get in trouble but the angel had not only been kind to him but had saved him from the archangels, he wants to at least help remove that troubled expression from his face.

Aziraphale was still feeling a great weight on him and doesn’t necessarily know where he should go. He flew in no particular destination in mind but found himself back at the clearing with the big olive tree. This time he set his feet on the ground and walked over to hide in its shade. But from this angle he saw the tree looking bent. Although it looks and feels sturdy, he found the trunk gashed almost in half.

Coming closer he reached out at the crevice and felt a memory wash through him and over the clearing. A memory he wanted to forget. Children screaming, louder than before; a flash of lightning; and his own wail somewhere farther off. It was not an ordinary olive tree. No, it was THE olive tree he saw splinter and sink during the beginning of the flood. He took his arm away and feel to his knees, shaking.

He felt a hand run softly on his shoulder and turned to find Crawly wide-eyed. “Lightning?” he croaked. So, he saw the memory too. He lowered himself next to the angel a little unsteady then pulled his robe to wipe Aziraphale’s face. He didn’t know he was crying. Crawly waited, still looking horrified but knew he’d get his answer now. Aziraphale did his best to tell his story without choking. They sat back-to-back while he did, thanking the demon for the little discretion it gave while he fumbled with his words and the tears that kept flowing.

“What was that about target practice then?” Crawly asked a while after Aziraphale had finished. He found his fists dug into the dirt.

“Gabriel was rather proud he got to hit the tree. I’m pretty sure he’d have a go at it again if he’d be given something- or someone…” Aziraphale didn’t finish his reply. Crawly bristled.

“So, is that why you were worried about me taking the children somewhere?”

Aziraphale closed his eyes with a pained face. “If the other angels found them, they’d think that they ought to have perished. And would probably finish the job. If they were part of Noah’s kin, they would be left alone. Also, should they find a demon with the surviving children, they would definitely smite all of you without hesitating.”

Crawly gave a deep sigh and fell silent. He leaned unto the angel’s back seeking physical support after being bombarded with all that information. Aziraphale didn’t move, nor did he feel him recoil from the contact, so he guessed it was alright.

“Do you know why this tree is here then?” he asked after a few minutes.

“No, not really. I thought it was the sign that the flood’s gone. But that was when I thought it was an ordinary olive tree. But now… there must be a reason.”

“Like remind you of that tragedy?” Crawly wanted to sound vindictive but after all that’s happened, he found himself simply tired of it all. At least, he thought, it’s over. The angel’s warmth was also helping him calm down.

Aziraphale scanned the clearing and saw how beautiful it was. Again, he was struck with how great a miracle it was. This was not a simple angel’s miracle. If Gabriel and Michael’s visit was to be based on, this definitely was not their doing. It came from a more powerful source.

Was it a reminder to grieve? To follow policies better? To teach him a lesson? To tell him to be a better angel? So far, he knew that it was for him. That it wasn’t to torment him, but rather for him to understand. He revisited the memory, now in a more peaceful state of mind. The burden lifted somewhat after he talked it out with Crawly. Back at the ark, during that storm he had wanted his life, his existence, taken instead of the children. He had rather wanted to die along with them, guilty at not being able to save them. But he was kept alive. And he didn’t know why. He wanted to ask, but he knew no one would answer.

The answer, in fact was that he couldn’t die for humans because he was of angel stock. He can protect them from themselves, but not from the wrath of heaven. And he only understood this, hundreds of years later, on a hill talking to Christ. He had asked _why_ he was willing to die for the others. He did not get an answer, instead Christ snapped a twig from the nearest olive tree and held it out to him. He took hold of it with shaking fingers and as if he could read his mind, Jesus smiled at him reassuringly. They talked of other things. He understood that it was the man’s decision. He wasn’t forced into it. It was part of a plan that they could not stop because Christ himself did not want it to. He was asked not to cry. A few hours before dawn, he left him to his thoughts and he went to ponder his.

“Actually…” he said slowly, then his thought kept _going I think it means that I didn’t do anything wrong by trying to save them. Just that someone else had to go muddle things up_. He mused.

“I think this is an apology,” he said aloud.

“Is it?” Crawly said incredulously.

“To me, yes,” the angel said, then smiled then, and Crawly didn’t counter anymore. The angel seems to be looking better. And he’d rather not break the mood. Instead he slipped his body from the angel to lie on the grass, letting the peace lull him and said, “At least this place looks like its good enough for a nap.”


End file.
